


For Your Eyes Only

by nozenfordaddy (fenna_girl)



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:16:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2124963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenna_girl/pseuds/nozenfordaddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days their lives were like a James Bond movie</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Your Eyes Only

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://spooky-doings.livejournal.com/profile)[**spooky_doings**](http://spooky-doings.livejournal.com/) Yuletide exchange for [](http://kirsteena.livejournal.com/profile)[**kirsteena**](http://kirsteena.livejournal.com/), who wanted cars and crosswords... and other stuff I couldn't quite make fit in the traditional way (like snowflakes). Hope this works for you! Many many thanks to [](http://verdant-gt.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://verdant-gt.livejournal.com/)**verdant_gt** for the beta.

“That isn’t how you spell Gaddafi, unless you’re the U.S. State Department, or you’re doing a Times crossword and not the Telegraph.” Jo slid into a seat opposite the senior case agent and pulled the lid off her coffee; craning to look at the crossword he was doing, “In which case we may need to have a talk about your reading material or possibly your spelling.”

“American papers give a unique take on world events; more information from a variety of sources is never a bad thing in this line of work.” He filled in another clue before looking up and pushing the paper across the table toward her so she didn’t have to strain to see it.

“What do you see?”

She scanned the grid, frowned, “It has more white space than normal.”

“American style, every letter is checked. Subsequently the clues can be harder, the words less common.”

She laughed, “Did you just imply that British crosswords are easier than American?”

“Not at all, in fact because of the layout of the British style the difficulties are comparable. But American style crosswords are better for leaving messages. More white space, both have symmetry but the excess space means more flexibility in modifying the pattern, and Americanized words which can have different connotations than what we are generally used to.”

“It’s a coded message?” She scanned the crossword again, noticed now that two of the boxes were shaded in. She scanned the clues trying to determine what the cipher was. “A is t, rotate after…” she ran her finger down the clues to find the one that had Gaddafi in it to count the boxes. “Seven letters.”

She looked up at him, his gaze clear and focused as she worked her way through his logic. He was impressed but there wasn’t a hint of it on his face.

“It doesn’t make sense though, the cipher doesn’t mean anything.”

“I wasn’t done yet,” he smiled sipped his coffee as Harry came into the room. “And you’re right I misspelled Gaddafi.”

She laughed and he joined her, it took years off him, something she hadn’t seen before, their boss paused beside the table, face tight, serious.

“Lucas,” the shutters came back down and he sipped his coffee again, looking up at the older man. “We have a situation, John Dekker is putting on a show and he’s requested your attendance. Find someone to join you, Ros is at her desk, and be in my office in five minutes.”

 

Harry didn’t say more, turned and left the canteen, Lucas swore, drained his coffee and moved to follow, pausing at the door he looked back at Jo decision made and jerked his head after the other man.

“Come on, you’ll do as back up.”

*

Jo glanced at her watch impatiently, she'd finished her coffee a half an hour ago and she gave it one last glance before shifting to look at the man beside her, judging if it was time to say something.

"It's twenty past four, Lucas. He should have been here an hour ago." She broke the anxious silence that had enveloped the car during the past hour when Lucas’ contact hadn’t showed at the appointed time.

"Dekker hasn’t been on time a day in his life," He replied his voiced edged with annoyance. “We wait, he’ll show.”

"Yeah, well maybe he's just not coming at all." She said in a short tone, John Dekker was a reclusive former member of the service, well off and mixed up in god knew what. He was also a former contemporary of Lucas’ which meant she had to be the voice of dissent until Lucas agreed to call in. “Maybe this is all a wild goose chase.”

Though he wouldn't admit it, Lucas was beginning to feel uneasy about the situation himself.  
“If it is, it isn’t Dekker’s doing.” He finally conceded. The message had been unusual but that was par for the course with his old friend. The man had wanted to meet alone, outside an abandoned warehouse, along the Thames. The request hadn't seemed odd at the time, but to Lucas now, something just didn't seem right. He drank the last remaining drops out of his coffee cup before letting out a sigh.

"I could use another cup of coffee. Let's get out of here. If he wants to see me he can come to us." He finally announced and Jo only nodded in agreement as Lucas started up the car.  
A sudden movement caught their eye as a man wearing a long coat stepped out of the shadows of a nearby doorway to stand a hundred feet ahead in front of their car. After a moment, the man reached inside his jacket and it suddenly became all too clear to Lucas what was going to happen next.

"This is a set up." He heard himself say out loud disbelievingly, but Jo barely heard his words as her eyes became fixed on the weapon now half way out of the man's trench coat. Lucas didn't have to see it to know what it was and in one quick motion, he yanked the gear shift into reverse and floored it.

Jo felt her body slam backward against her seat and she tensed against it as her eyes met the gun now aimed directly for them. Another jolt sent her forward this time when Lucas slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a sudden halt.

"Get down," He yelled as he yanked her toward him and downward out of range of the gunshots, her cell phone slipped from her fingers and fell onto the floor by his feet. There was a loud shatter as the rifle shot struck the windshield. Jo had defensively covered her head with her hands though it was unnecessary, Lucas was shielding her body with his own.  
Glass flew everywhere as the shots continued and then just as suddenly as it had all started, there was nothing. Just the sound of eerie silence.

"Reloading, stay down." Lucas ordered before shoving his own safety aside and positioning himself again at the wheel, Jo stretched for her phone as he shifted the car into drive the sound of gunfire mixed with the sound of tires screeching against pavement as he pulled the car forward and turned it sharply. The phone slid further out of reach and Jo shifted back against the door hard. Lifting her head she realized there had been more than one man involved in the ambush as a car seemed to come out of nowhere, following directly behind them.

“Lucas,” she drew her weapon, preparing to return fire.

“I see them,” he swerved across two lanes, forcing her to grab the seat to stay upright as their car barreled into a back alley. The back window shattered and both of them ducked the flying glass.

"We need to call for back up." She stated the obvious but his only reply was a sudden jerk to the right as he swerved around a rolling trash bin in front of them slamming her against the passenger door. The sound of sirens approaching was a welcoming one and for the first time – ever probably - he offered a slight smile at her.

"Looks like we might not have to. Who says there's never a bobby around when you need one?"  
Except they both knew the cops wouldn’t locate them soon enough to assist in barricading the other car in the alley. She levered herself up, placing herself directly in the line of fire, and took aim at the tires of the car, firing until it blew sending the chase car spinning into the wall at full speed and a moment later, erupted into flames.

A gradual stop was out of the question as they approached the end of the alleyway he slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel sharply causing the car to turn one hundred and eighty degrees before coming to a complete stop hard against the wall.

For several moments, it was as if they were frozen as they concentrated on catching their breath, Jo’s head throbbing from the impact with the door as they stopped.

"You all right?" He was the first to ask and she nodded, still breathing heavily.

"Yeah... I think so. A bit bruised. You?" She glanced at him and was surprised to find that streaks of blood had streamed down the side of his face from a series of nicks from the shattered glass. She made a distressed noise and reached out for him.

"Don't worry... I'll live," He answered her unspoken question before she could touch him. Resting his back against the seat and dropping his head back, he closed his eyes as a smile spread across his face. "I could sure as hell use that coffee though."

She returned the smile as she turned her gaze toward the burning car a short distance away. A little less luck or even just one poorly made split-second decision and that could have been them. She looked over at Lucas and saw that he was looking at the burning car as well.

“No answers there,” she shook her head and he swore.

“Something tells me Dekker is a dead end.”

*

“He was found in the Thames.” Malcolm flicked a button and the forensics team photos filled the screen. “One bullet, back of the head, up close and personal – signs that he’d had sex not long before his death.”

“Not so lucky for him or for us,” Harry said calmly. “He was going to meet Lucas and pass along some information. He obviously didn’t make it.”

“And neither did Lucas’ car.” Ros added in a saccharine sweet tone.

“Never fear, we shall ride again.” Across the table from him Jo made a noise into her coffee.

“Not if I have a say in the matter.”

“You don’t.” Harry interrupted the back and forth. “An envelope was delivered to the front desk. Insurance we assume Dekker must have had it couriered before he was killed.”

“We’re certain it was him? Not another set up.” Ros wasn’t convinced and it was evident in her tone. Malcolm clicked a button and the message appeared on screen; Lucas scanned it along with the others coldly certain as he got to the postscript that it was from his old friend.

“It’s from him, distinctive style and that phrase - It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend. It’s Blake. This was for me. He must have known he was being followed and sent it as insurance.”

“Insurance and enough information to let us know what he’d stumbled on.” Harry nodded his agreement. “There was a disk in the envelope, and an invitation to a high profile arts auction this evening in Dekker’s name.”

“But they aren’t just auctioning off art?” Ben asked.

“Precisely, according to the information on the disk one of the pieces up for auction has added value,” Connie held up a mini disk, on the table beside it was the invitation. “One of these with information about MI-5 deep cover agents in the field embedded in a modern multimedia piece called ‘snowflakes’.”

“That’s how Dekker got involved, he’s retired, hit it rich in the security business – high tech systems, data protection. But he does deep cover training for the service.” Lucas frowned.

“And he programmed the security encryption for some of our systems.” Malcolm added.

“He got invited to the auction because he’s got money.” Ben tapped the invitation. “But he’s dead, so…”

“So I go in as Dekker.”

“And get yourself killed.” Ros sipped her tea. “You don’t know they won’t know right away that you aren’t him.”

“But it’s a public auction, invitation only but in a public place, full of people who are just there for the art. Even if they know Lucas isn’t John Dekker… they can’t do anything about it while we’re inside.” Jo backed Lucas up, and got a brief nod of agreement.

“We?” Ros’ voice sounded like a woman amused, a verbal eyebrow lift.

“The man in the coat, he saw us together. Even if he knows we aren’t who we say we are he knows my face. You and Ben can be back up.”

“As good a plan as I’ve heard so far.” Harry stood up, glancing at his watch. “I have a meeting with the Home Secretary about the potential loss of our deep cover network. When I get back I’d like that plan finalized and ready to be implemented.”

*

They made a striking pair -- a petite, shapely blonde in a short, snug silver blue dress walking next to a taller figure in a tux, his dark exotic appearance forming a marked counterpoint to her cool icy looks. He had an arm slung low around her hips as they entered the party, his auction number tucked in his breast pocket, he smiled at the woman at the door handing out leather bound auction catalogs and winked at her.

Ros had to force herself not to roll her eyes, “He’s enjoying this too much.”

“He’s meant to draw attention to himself.” Malcolm reminded her, a whisper in her ear.

“Whilst you and Ben ‘jack the loot’.” The phrase sounded alien and out of place in Malcolm’s clipped tone.

“This is a James Bond movie,” she muttered turning and slipping out of the room as Ben moved past carrying a tray, Lucas reached for a drink, took a sip and offered it to Jo.

She pressed one hand against his chest as she took the glass with the other, giving him cover as he bent his head low and spoke to Malcolm.

“Are you picking up the camera signal?”

“Affirmative.” Malcolm’s voice was another whisper in his ear. “Jo if you could turn a bit, get us some more faces.”

She slid against Lucas’ chest, turning so that the camera in her necklace could get a wider view of the room stopping back to front as his arms slid round her again. She laughed and tipped her head back against his shoulder.

“Better?”

“Much, thank you. Running face recognition software now.” She sipped the glass of champagne and lifted it to Lucas’ lips with a smirk; he took it and swallowed the rest setting the glass aside as a well dressed woman approached, shadowed by a familiar face. Jo’s shoulder’s tightened fractionally and she giggled craning to nip at his jaw.

“Malcolm, the man coming toward us is the man from earlier.”

“I’ve got him, face recognition hasn’t come up with anything yet.”

“I thought I knew everyone who came to these events,” the woman was close enough to address them now and offered her hand to Lucas, ignoring Jo – good to know she played an effective bit of alright. “Marsha Younger.”

“John Dekker, and my companion Jill,” he shook the offered hand, glancing at the man behind her as if expecting an introduction. One didn’t come.

“Mister Dekker, I’d heard you were invited. Hadn’t expected to see you… out and about.” Or expected to see him alive, assuming she didn’t know he wasn’t Dekker.

“It isn’t my normal practice truly, but with a prize like that on the block this evening how could I resist.

“And what are you planning on bidding on?” She held out her catalog and Lucas let a slow smile spread across his face, scanning the items up for auction as Malcolm came up with more information.

“She’s not on the guest list; the name pops up as American. Former CIA from the looks of how squeaky clean her background is. She has ties in Asia, and the Middle East. Freelance work. Facial recognition says her friend is Jeremy Woods, muscle, with quite the impressive CV.”

“That would be telling.” Lucas said finally, with a wink.

“Do you think you and Pussy Galore could get a move on with the distraction?” Ros sounded at ease if somewhat annoyed as her voice filtered through the comms. “Ben and I are in position.”

Lucas offered Marsha the arm not still around Jo, “A drink perhaps? And we can discuss it?”

*

“The disk was recovered, and the security of the system protecting the information has been doubled and the ciphers changed.” Connie filled in Harry and Lucas, putting the file on the Section Chief’s desk.

“And we picked up Woods and Younger as well, they were buying the list for someone but they haven’t told us who.” Lucas sipped his coffee, it was getting cold and he set the cup aside.

“Keep working on it.” Harry nodded and Lucas rose to leave followed by Connie.

*

Jo sipped her coffee and filled in a column on the crossword she was working on, smiling at herself.

“Amusing?” This time it was Lucas who slid into the seat across from her.

“You tell me.” She flipped the paper around and pushed it toward him before getting up and heading down the hall. She hadn’t gotten far when he started to laugh at the message she’d left him: _’Next time you wear the sparkly cocktail napkin.’_.

Her cipher obviously needed to be more complicated.  



End file.
